


Magister Prey (Repuloaded)

by Mint_Leaf_Toffee



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, Clothed Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Consensual Sex, Electricity, Fingering, Gags, M/M, Roleplay, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mint_Leaf_Toffee/pseuds/Mint_Leaf_Toffee
Summary: Reuploaded here on my NSFW account!Dorian and the Inquisitor decide to do a little bit of roleplay together away from Skyhold...In which Quen Lavellan pretends to be an Elven Freedom Fighter and Dorian plays a Tevinter Magister





	Magister Prey (Repuloaded)

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to put this story on my NSFW account. It is unbeta'd and a year old.  
> \---  
> Disclaimer: This is all consensual Roleplay. When it Says Quen and Dorian, the two are not in roleplay character. When it says Lavellan and the Magister/mage, they are role playing.

Lavellan groaned as he slowly woke up. His body hurt all over on the wooden floor.

He tried to move his arms but found them bound behind his back. Not only were his arms tied together, a gag was over his mouth.

The elf’s eyes quickly shot open and moved around the room. He noticed he was on his stomach on the floor of a small cabin. A faint candle glow came from a small desk, shining on the cabin’s sealed windows. The room also had a fireplace filled with logs but no fire was burning, leaving the bound elf in the cold.

Lavellan breathed quickly to calm down his rising panic of how he ended up like this. He remembered he was on a lead to rescuing a group of elven slaves that were being held by Tevinter Magisters. The information was vague but he had to go out on a whim if it meant he could save a handful of his brethren or at least dwindle the Tevinter numbers down.

The information had led him to an encampment in the Hinterlands. Cloaked in the shadows, he wandered around the tents, his daggers at the ready to cut any Tevinter’s throats.

The camp was eerily silent and before he could react, Lavellan was caught in a Static Cage spell, his body paralyzed and the stealth cloak dissipating. Unable to turn his head, his assailant swiftly came up behind him and covered his face with a sweet-smelling cloth that made his head dizzy and caused him to lose consciousness, leading him to his current state.

Lavellan tried to wriggle in his bonds, noting that whoever knocked him out made sure to make a thorough search of removing his tools and lock pick pouch. His daggers were nowhere in sight as he looked around whilst squirming. The ropes were tight around his forearms, his gloves keeping the cord from digging into his skin.

He jerked his head up at the sound of the cabin door opening, his eyes narrowing at the figure who appeared in the doorway.

The figure held up his hand, a spark of light flitted from his fingertips and lit the logs in the fireplace ablaze, filling the cabin with more light and warmth. The light revealed the figure to be a Tevinter mage, judging by his style of robes and the staff he held in his other hand. The curly moustache on the man’s face twitched as he smirked at the elf that was writhing on the floor.

“So, what have we here?” Closing the cabin door, the Tevinter sauntered across the floor and knelt to get a better look at the elf’s face. “The infamous Lavellan, known to be a thorn in every Magister and slave trader’s side.” The elf glared at him. “The Freedom Fighter of elven slaves, in my possession.” Lavellan flinched when the Magister reached out to touch his face. “I wonder how much my colleagues would pay to purchase you…” The Magister traced his thumb over the elf’s Vallaslin, prompting Lavellan to let out a muffled growl behind the gag. “Hmm? Have something to say?”

Grabbing the elf by the back of his coat collar, the mage helped him sit upright. Putting his staff down, the Magister reached up with both hands and removed the gag, moving back just in time as the elf jumped to snap at his fingers.

“Tevinter scum! You shems have no right to enslave us! Ar tu na'lin emma mi! May the Dread wolf-” Lavellan was slammed against the wall by the mage’s magic.

“Such a feisty elf. I might keep you for myself instead of selling you to my associates.” The Magister made sure that the elf was immobilized by his magic before he reached into the pouch on his hip. “But first you will need to be disciplined.”

“Disciplined?” Lavellan spat, the force of the magic making it difficult to take deep breathes. “You’re…going to have to…do better than that.” He snarled, flashing his teeth.

The Magister looked at the elf with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t worry…” He withdrew something from his pouch and popped it into his mouth. Gripping the elf’s short white hair, he angled Lavellan’s head up so he could look into the blue eyes glaring at him. “You’ll be a quivering mess when I’m done with you.”

Lavellan opened his mouth to make another comeback, but the Magister saw an opportunity to crush his mouth against the elf’s, using his tongue to shove a pill into the other’s mouth.

Quen’s hands cringed in response. It took all of his willpower to control his reflexes not to bite down hard on Dorian’s tongue.  _This is all an act_. He told himself.  _This is your Vhenan. Not a real Magister._ Nevertheless, Quen proceeded to put up a bit of a fight to stay in character.

Lavellan tried not to swallow the capsule but the Magister drew his face back and covered the elf’s mouth with his hand. He used his other hand to massage Lavellan’s throat to help ease the pill down.

Pushing the elf gently back against the wall, the Magister strolled over to a nearby chair and sat down, resting his chin between his hands.

Lavellan stared at the mage, confused. He realized that the mage wasn’t using any magic anymore to hold him in place. Starting to get up, his body jolted from a sudden heat, letting out a whimpered moan from his lips. Panting, he scowled at the Magister. “What…what was that drug?”

Smirking, the mage leaned back in his chair. “That, my friend, is a special aphrodisiac. Specially brewed to have you feel the minor effects every few minutes until it fully dissolves into your system, and by then you be begging for release.”

Trying not to break character, Quen relaxed his body so it wouldn’t try and forcefully vomit the pill out. Once again he had to remind himself that this was Dorian, not some random Magister slave trader. Anyone else trying to force him to their will would have had little effect on his libido, drugs or no drugs. But here he was with his lover, someone he trusted, and damn did  _that_ turn him on. Controlling his breathing, he decided to see the symptoms of the drug play out.

Continuing to scowl at the mage, Lavellan squirmed in his bonds. Another wave of heat coursed through him, causing him to cease in his struggle, gasping.

The damn mage sat there in the chair, examining his fingers with a smug look on his face every time he glanced back at Lavellan. Eventually, he grew bored watching the elf thrash around and decided to take out a book from his pouch and began to read.

Lavellan tried to twist his wrists around to reach the knot but it was angled too far for his fingers to reach. He stiffened as the drug hit him again, sending blood down to his dick. Frustrated that he couldn’t loosen the binds, he flopped his head against the wall, exhausted from his fruitless efforts.

His body felt too warm for his clothes. The slight coolness of the room though felt like relief on his face as a bead of sweat rolled down his brow. “Fenedhis…” He swore under his breath.

“A little too hot for you Lavellan?” The Magister grinned at the elf glowering back at him. “Do you need assistance with those leathers of yours?” Putting down the book, he rose from the chair and walked over.

Lavellan saw his chance and kicked out his leg, causing the mage to stumble. Twisting his legs around to flip upright, he shoved his weight to push the Magister down, somehow managing to get on top of the mage’s stomach with his arms still bound.

“Touch me again…” He hissed. “And I’ll bite your balls off.”

“I hardly think you’re in any position to give me the orders.” The mage said, still smirking while looking up.

“You may have bound me  _Shem_ , but I can still mar your pretty-arse face with my teeth.” He bared his fangs to emphasis the threat. “And there is a reason why you Vints can never hold me down-AURGH!”

The mage had sent a bolt of electricity through Lavellan’s body, shocking him just enough to lessen his hold. It didn’t help that the drug’s effects coursed through him again, stimulating his arousal.

Lavellan found himself flipped over and onto his stomach, the Magister’s elbow digging between his shoulder blades.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard all about your exploits. Your moves are like a little winter fox: fast with a harsh bite.” Leaning in close, he whispered huskily in the elf’s ear. “But how does the fox fare against a snake I wonder?” He smirked as the elf slightly shuddered in response.

“Depends...” Lavellan hissed. “If this fox manages to snap off the snake’s head first.”

The pressure on his back lessened and he heard a sigh. “And this is why I dislike dealing with such vicious elves. Your voice is such music to my ears. Still…”

“What are you-Mmph!” The gag was swiftly pulled back on his face.

“I’d rather not risk my family jewels to your incisors. Now…” The mage pulled Lavellan up and propped him against the wall again. “Back to where we were, my dear. You must be roasting in those clothes by now.”

The Magister was right. Lavellan felt even more hot all over. And the gag made it impossible for him to pant. Still, he wouldn’t give the Tevinter satisfaction of a response of any kind so he stayed silent and glowered.

Smiling, the Magister slowly undid the leather buckles of Lavellan’s armor under his coat. Taking a knife out, the mage sliced open the elf’s shirt, revealing a pale, tattooed chest to the glow of the fireplace in the room.

Lavellan sighed in relief behind the gag as the cool air kissed his skin. He then jolted when he felt a hand place itself over his breast over his rapidly beating heart. The sensation of the touch caused his arousal to slowly harden again. He let out a soft moan, hoping the gag managed to muffle most of it. Raising his glazed over eyes, he saw the Magister’s grin grow wider.

He felt the hands push away his tattered shirt and pulled them down his arms with his coat, his bound forearms preventing the clothes from sliding down any further. The hands roamed over his chest, tracing the Vallaslin markings on his body. He shivered at the soft touch that made his body even more hot, even though his chest was now exposed to the chilled air.

The Magister leaned in to Lavellan’s neck and began to nibble on his earlobe, eliciting a whimper.

Lavellan bucked his hips when he felt one of the roaming hands trail down and palm his arousal through the fabric of his trousers; his breathing through his nose coming out at a fast rate.

His ears reddened and twitched as teeth grazed the tips. A sob escaped him when the mouth moved down to a particular spot on his neck that made his legs go weak.

Creators. The man knew just where his weak points were.

The hands retreated and he heard the knife taken out again. Quickly pushing his thighs apart, the mage sliced open the crotch of the elf’s pants. Lavellan’s eyes widened before squeezing shut and hitting his head on the wall as the hands grabbed his length through his smallclothes.

His eyes began to water from all the sensations he was feeling by this mage’s hands. The drug by now was coursing through his system.

The Magister pressed the elf’s knees up and ripped off his smallclothes, grabbing the elf’s cock in his hand. He smirked as he watched the elf let out a muffled groan behind the gag.

Oh how he wished to hear the sounds clearly, but his captive wasn’t compliant enough yet to do so.

With his free hand, he retrieved a bottle of oil from his pouch. Uncorking the vial with his teeth, he dribbled the oil on his hand and Lavellan’s length. Lavellan trembled as he stroked the elf’s cock to coat his fingers.

Reaching down, he slid in two fingers in Lavellan’s entrance with ease. Grinning he bent close to whisper in the elf’s ear in a low voice. “The way how you take me so willingly…makes one wonder if you offer yourself up to those elven slaves you saved…” He twisted his wrist and watched the elf jerk his head away.

With his free hand, he massaged the back of Lavellan’s neck, kissing the tips of the reddened ears while continuing to stretch and explore the elf’s insides. The elf squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears as the fingers began to thrust in and out of his hole. A wet spot formed around the gag from his mouth.

Suddenly, Lavellan bucked his hips forward and let out a muffled cry. The Magister smiled and pressed his fingers again on the bundle of nerves he found. The elf moaned even louder, getting close to his limit.

Sensing this, the mage let out a spark of electricity from his fingertips that were pressing on Lavellan’s prostate, prompting the elf’s body to spasm violently as he screamed into the gag and painted his stomach with his release.

Sobbing, Quen rolled his head to the side in defeat. Withdrawing his fingers, Dorian undid the knot of the gag and let it fall away from his lover’s mouth.

Quen looked at Dorian with hooded eyes, drool coming from his mouth. “Dorian…” He moaned.

Dorian crushed their mouths into a bruising kiss, thrusting his tongue into Quen’s mouth, who was too exhausted from his recent orgasm to try to fight for dominance.

The mage moved back to let them breathe, smiling gently at his Amatus, noting that the inquisitor was still hard. He felt Quen’s legs hook around his waist and pull him forward, his clothed erection close to the elf’s entrance.

“Ma…ma vhenan…” Quen gasped. “I…need you…”

“Oh Amatus…” Dorian grunted, his hands fumbling to open his trousers as quickly as possible. “How could I deny such a request…”

Using what was left of the oil in the bottle, he slicked his cock up and lifted Quen’s legs up so the elf’s hips were angled for better access. Slowly, he entered his lover, watching as Quen bit his lip and let out a tiny whimper.

Once he was buried to the hilt in Quen, the two paused, catching their breaths. The only noises in the cabin at this point was the fire crackling in the fireplace and the two panting whilst looking at one another.

“Amatus…?” Quen nodded quickly in reply. Dorian withdrew from Quen’s entrance before snapping his hips forward, shoving himself deep. The elf gasped in surprise as his lover began to fuck him at a steady pace.

Dorian bent down and bite down on the side of Quen’s neck, the elf shuddering and mewling in return.

“Ah! V, vhenan!” He could feel the moustache tickle as the mage smirked into the mark left on his neck.

Suddenly, his lover pulled out completely from his abused entrance. Quen whined in confusion at the loss of his lover. Dorian shushed him in reassurance, kissing his eyelids gently whilst rubbing his side before reaching around back to his bound arms.

Quen felt the knot of his bindings undone. As soon as his arms were free, he threw them around the mage’s neck, locking their lips back together.

Tightening his legs around Dorian’s waist, he was then lifted off the ground until his lover was in a standing position, supporting Quen against the wall. Dorian positioned himself back at the elf’s hole, slamming back in, the rogue moaning wantonly into his mouth.

The angle and the force of gravity allowed Dorian to aim for Quen’s prostate with every rough thrust he made-Quen squirming in pleasure whilst resting his forehead on Dorian’s shoulder, panting quickly. He reached between the two of their bodies and began stroking himself at a rapid pace.

“D, dorian!” He groaned in delight as his entire body shuddered. “I-”

Dorian leaned in to Quen’s pointed ear and growled, quickening his thrusts even more. “Do it...Amatus...” The way how his sultry, silky voice said that word was the last straw of Quen’s control. Quen’s body stiffened, clenching down on Dorian’s cock as he came with a cry-that was quickly silenced by Dorian’s mouth upon his own. The mage’s hands left bruising marks on the elf’s hips, he slammed in one last time before releasing himself inside Quen.

The two were silent, catching their breaths. Dorian removed himself from Quen and carried the elf to the nearby bed. Settling Quen down, Dorian reached up and helped remove Quen’s tattered pants and shirt. He had been smart enough to pack a second pair of clothes, the knapsack with the elf’s daggers hidden under the bed.

Once the two had relieved themselves of their clothes, Dorian got up and got a rag with a water basin. He leaned in the kiss Quen’s forehead as he cleaned the elf off. “How was that, love?”

“Mmm…” Quen hummed in delight, reaching his hand around Dorian’s neck and pulling him down for a gentle kiss. “That was amazing ma vhenan…” His body felt tired and like jelly at this point.

Dorian chuckled, lifting up the blanket and covering the two of them. He wrapped his arms around Quen’s back and pulled the elf close, nuzzling his nose in Quen’s white hair. Quen reached up and carded his fingers through Dorian’s hair. “Bull’s suggestion at roleplay was a good idea.” He murmured.

“Who would have thought that the Inquisitor would have such naughty thoughts though and come up with such a scenario himself?” Dorian winked, letting out a laugh as Quen rolled his eyes. “But still,” He tipped up Quen’s chin to look at him in the eyes. “With your tastes in such kinks, I’m surprised you didn’t get together with The Iron Bull.”

“Bull is nice, but I feel like his preferences are too extreme for me.” Quen leaned in to nuzzle Dorian’s neck. “I’m more of the mellow kind of person of such naughty thoughts.”

“That uses drugs to help induce the mood?” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, where did you get that aphrodisiac from?” He drew little circles down Quen’s spine, eliciting a slight shiver from the elf.

“I bought it in Val Royeux when I went there with Sera. I had to hide the damned thing from her lest she stole it and used it in some prank.” Quen smiled into Dorian’s shoulder as the man let out another laugh.

“Ah, Amatus, you never fail to amuse me.” The two shared a kiss one more time before turning in for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I have established a NSFW account, I will probably come back and edit this someday but for now, here it is again folks!


End file.
